


Steal The Dark From The Skies

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Arguing, Childhood Friends, Comfort, Coming of Age, Denial, Developing Relationship, Dreams vs. Reality, Fantasy, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Football | Soccer, Forests, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Frottage, Growing Up Together, Hide and Seek, I Don't Even Know, Imaginary Friends, Imagination, Light Angst, Loneliness, M/M, Meant To Be, Mildly Dubious Consent, Reality Bending, References to Depression, Snogging, Swimming, Tree Houses, Wet Dream, Why Did I Write This?, waterfalls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 11:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5664760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark got his first imaginary friend just before his fifth birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steal The Dark From The Skies

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you have a cute idea right before bed and don't have to work the next day.

Mark got his first imaginary friend just before his fifth birthday.

It had been a long day. He'd gone to the park with his mam, had been sniffling a bit, and by the afternoon had been feeling really poorly, throwing up and coughing. By nine it was well after his bedtime. He was dripping sweat, running a high fever. The doctor was called. They got him cooled down and gave him some medicine. His mam and dad sat with him until he went to sleep.

When he opened his eyes he was in the woods.

He wasn't frightened, not at all. But dreams were like that, and this felt like a good dream. It smelled like rotting leaves, sweet and alive, like when his nana would take him to the lough to skip stones.

There was water babbling somewhere to his left, so he followed the sound until he came out on a small clearing with a large grey rock in the middle.

There was a boy sat on the rock.

“Who are you?” Blue eyes snapped accusingly in his direction. He felt his stomach knot. Maybe this wasn't a good dream after all.

“Mark.” He managed. The boy pushed messy hair off his forehead, peering at him. “I'm lost.”

“Oh. Okay.” He jumped down from the rock. A little taller, a little older than Mark. “I'm in the hospital.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. I've got moan-ya.” Nicky tilted his head. His name was Nicky. Mark already knew. “This is my forest.”

“Is it?” Mark looked around. He hadn't heard of people owning a forest before. They just sort of belonged to everyone.

“You're trespassing.”

“I didn't know.”

“That's okay.” Nicky studied him. “I'll let you stay. If you want. You can be my butler.”

“What's that?”

“You know. Wears a suit. Does things when you say. Like answering the door. I saw it in a movie.”

“What door?” Mark looked around. He hadn't seen one. Not so much as a gate.

“Well... you can do other things. Like get my dinner.”

“Mam says I'm not allowed in the kitchen on my own. And I don't want to be a butter.”

“It's a butler. You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because it's my forest.”

“I'll go somewhere else.” He turned to walk back into the trees, back the way he could hear water coming from. His dad had always said if he got lost he should find water and follow it, that it would end up somewhere with people.

“Wait!” He turned back around to find Nicky staring at him. “Don't go.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't want to be by myself. It's not as fun.” He bit his lip. “I've been here ages.”

“How long?”

“Don't know.” Nicky edged a little closer. He was wearing a red football shirt with a number six on it, and tracksuit pants. “Sometimes I can hear my dad talking but he's not here."

“I threw up.”

“When?”

“Before.” He hesitated. “I was gonna find the water. You wanna come?”

“Okay.” Nicky jogged over. “How old are you?”

“Four.”

“I'm five and a half.” Nicky announced triumphantly. He fell into step beside Mark. The mud was soft here, sinking beneath their feet. Mark lifted his legs higher, trying to pull his feet out of the muck. Nicky stumbled, his hand slipping into Mark's to keep his balance. Mark held on. Nicky did too.

“Nicky?”

“Yep.”

“It's your forest? The whole thing?”

“Yeah.” Nicky glanced at him. “If you don't wanna be my butler you can by my first mate.”

“What's that?”

“Like on a pirate ship, there's the captain and then there's the first mate.”

“What does he do?”

“He's... you know, when the captain tells him to do things he does them, but all the other pirates do what he says because he's the captain's best friend.”

“Is he?”

“Yeah.” Nicky scratched his nose. “You can be my best friend if you want.”

“Okay.” Mark held onto his hand a little tighter. Nicky smiled.

“Mark?”

“Yeah?”

“My moan-ya hurts. I don't wanna wake up.” Mark shrugged, not sure what he was expected to do about that. “Where do you live?”

“Sligo.” His mam had made him memorise his address in case he ever got lost.

“That's far away.”

“How far?”

“Like... if I walked for a whole year I wouldn't get that far.” Nicky smiled triumphantly. “Mam said it's the arse end of nowhere.” Mark giggled. He wasn't allowed to swear like that. Nicky smirked. “Arse.”

“Arse.” Mark laughed, going pink. Nicky grinned.

“Arse.” Nicky agreed. They shifted a little closer to each other. “Where we going?

Mark kept walking.

“Dunno.” He said. The trees were thicker here and he still couldn't see the water. He looked around, then headed for a likely looking tree and started to pull himself up on the lowest branch.

“What are you doing?” Nicky ran to the bottom of the tree, looking panicked. Mark stood, reaching to grab onto the next branch. “You'll fall.”

“No I won't.” He wriggled one leg up, clinging with both hands. “I climb trees all the time. You can see the whole world from a tree.” He bit his lip and grunted, rolling onto the branch, then struggling to his knees. Nicky looked small already. He edged over to the trunk, trying to find somewhere to put his hands. “Come on.”

“But...” Nicky hesitated. “It's really high up.”

Mark shrugged, continuing to climb. He couldn't explain it, didn't know the words. How big the world was from the top of a tree. Getting scratches on his hands, leaves in his face, leaving the ground far behind and knowing you were right at the very top. Then your mam would come and call you in for dinner and you'd know she couldn't make you come down, but you would anyway, because then you'd get a hug and she'd hold your hand all the way to the house.

Because that was what trees were like.

The branch shook, and he looked down to see Nicky grabbing for the bottom branch.

“Wait for me!"

Mark did, going up another branch before stopping. It was quiet up here, but noisy all the same. Crickets and birds and the low humming drone of the world getting on. A few minutes later Nicky climbed up next to him, lip bitten while he struggled onto the branch and grabbed onto the trunk, closing his eyes.

“It's really high.”

Mark looked down. There was still a long way to go. His legs kicked in the air. “I'll keep going.”

“No. Stay.” Nicky's eyes opened, but he didn't look down. Looked up instead. The branch shivered in the wind. Nicky yelped. A hand grabbed Mark's.

“Do you want a hug?”

“Yes.” Mark sidled over, wrapping his arms carefully around the older boy. Nicky latched on tight, his other arm still clinging to the branch while Mark giggled, leaning his head in a narrow shoulder. “Don't laugh.”

“Okay.” He kissed Nicky's cheek. The arm around him tightened. “Let's stay here.” He decided. “Until we wake up.”

“You don't get to tell me what to do. I'm the captain.”

“Can we stay here?”

“...Yes.” Nicky said hesitantly. “But only because I want to.”

Mark leaned back into Nicky's shoulder and closed his eyes.

 

 

*

 

 

“Nicky?”

“Yeah.” Nicky looked over. It was dark, a little cloudy. The weather seemed to change with his mood in this place, and tonight the air was crisp, a cool breeze shivering off their skin. Nicky was sat on the edge of the path, leaned against a tree. They still hadn't found the water, though Mark knew it was somewhere. They'd been looking for months.

He didn't always come here when he fell asleep. Just sometimes. Other times he'd have normal dreams, loose floaty things that didn't make sense and were almost forgotten when he woke. The Nicky dreams were different.

“I'm going to school on Monday.”

“Me too.”

“I haven't been before.”

“Oh.”

“I'm scared.”

Nicky nodded, reaching out an arm. Mark sat down next to him. He liked Nicky. He was a bit like a big brother. Mark had a little brother, Barry, but he was so little he didn't do much of anything except smell and cry.

“Why?”

“Because...” He pursed his lips, trying to think how to say what he felt. “Um.”

“Do you have a lunchbox?”

“Yeah. It's got Big Bird on it.”

“I like Fozzie.”

“Me too.” He looked at Nicky. “Is school okay?”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded. “Sometimes it's hard, but we get to sing songs and play outside and stuff.”

“I like singing.”

“Me too.” An arm came around his shoulders. Mark leaned into Nicky's side. He was wearing his red football shirt again. “You'll make lots of friends.”

“That's what my mam said.” He'd replied that he already had a friend called Nicky, who talked to him sometimes in his dream. She'd smiled and asked if Nicky was nice. He'd said yes. “Did you get scared on your first day?"

“No.” Nicky paused. “Maybe a little bit. It was okay after that, though.”

“Okay.” He looked down at the dirt at their feet, the moonlight throwing shadows on the path. When he looked up the clouds were starting to clear. “I'm gonna climb a tree. You wanna come?”

“No.” Nicky looked nervously up at the tree above their head. “I'll catch you if you fall out, though.”

“I won't fall.” Mark smirked, standing up.

 

*

 

The water was cool today. Mark lay on his back, eyes closed against the hot sun beating down on them. It was a little muggy, perfect for a dip, and Nicky had already been in the water when he'd gotten there.

They'd found it last week, finally, had walked down a familiar path and suddenly there it was. They'd wondered how they hadn't seen it before.

“Happy birthday.” Mark said. Nicky was stood nearby in the water, poking at the rocks on the bottom with his toes.

“You weren't here on my birthday.”

“Yeah.” Mark sank into the water, looked up, his head poking up above the surface. “I tried to, but then when I fell asleep I didn't.”

“Me either.” Nicky splashed him gently. Mark laughed, wiping water out of his eyes. He splashed back. Nicky giggled. “Do you ever come here and I'm not here?”

“No.” He hadn't. Nicky was always here. “Do you?”

“No.” Nicky looked at him. “I'm glad. I don't want to be here on my own.”

“Me neither.” Mark smiled. “My mam says you're imag... imagry?”

“Imaginary.” Nicky smirked. “Yeah, my mam said the same thing. Maybe you are.”

“I'm not imaginy.”

“Well, I'm not.”

“Okay.” He ducked under the water. When he came up Nicky was heading for the shore. “Where you going?”

“Gonna splash.” Nicky jogged away a little, then turned around, starting to run. When he leapt Mark cringed away automatically, laughing when Nicky cannonballed into the water with a whoop. He came up spitting water and grinning smugly. Mark swam over.

“Why didn't you hit the bottom?”

“Don't know.” The water was barely waist high. “Never do.” He pursed his lips, looking around. “That happens sometimes, have you noticed? Like when I fell over the other day I didn't get hurt. And remember that day it snowed?” That had been weird. It had been a hot day at home, Mark had been complaining, then not long after snowflakes had begun to fall. “Do you think it does what we want?”

“I don't know.” Mark bit his lip. “Like a genie? Maybe we can wish for things?”

“Maybe.” Nicky closed his eyes. Held out a hand. “I wish for a cupcake.”

“Didn't work.”

Nicky opened his eyes, sighing. Mark shrugged.

“I still like it here.”

Nicky smiled.

“Me too.”

 

*

 

“And then the witch pulls off her face like this...” Mark winced as Nicky grabbed the bottom of his chin and started tugging up, pulling faces as he did. “And then it's all messed up underneath, like this monster, and all the other witches have no hair and then she smells the boy hiding and starts sniffing for him...”

“Gross.” Mark stuck his tongue out. “It was good, though?”

“Yeah. I went with my sister while mam and dad went and saw some romantic thing. I wanted to see Predator 2 but they said I wasn't allowed. I can't wait til I'm twelve. Then I'll see everything.”

“My dad took me to see Back To The Future.”

“That was good! Not as good as the second one, though.”

“No.” Mark laughed. “Do you think that's what the future will be like? With flying cars and things?”

“Maybe. It's a long time away.” Nicky shrugged. “It was 2015, right? So I'll be... thirty-seven.” He pulled a face. “Yuck. I'll _never_ be that old. That's almost as old as my mam.”

“I'll be eleven soon.”

“I'm still older.”

“You'll always still be older.” Mark stood up from the rock he'd been sitting on while Nicky had been re-enacting the movie. “You want to go to the treehouse or something?”

“I'm okay. You want to play football?”

“If you want.”

Nicky nodded. They both closed their eyes. When they opened them there was a ball on the ground, a bit battered, but perfectly fine. Nicky kicked it gently.

They'd figured it out the year before. It was no good wishing for things, but if you expected them to be there, then there they were. It didn't work for everything. You couldn't make people or animals, as Nicky had discovered when he'd tried to show Mark his dog. They'd made a treehouse together, a huge sprawling thing that had led to a great day, swinging on ropes and falling into the beds of leaves piled up at the base of the tree.

Nicky was getting better at climbing, didn't look so scared of heights all the time, though Mark suspected that was more to do with knowing you couldn't get hurt. It was easy when you knew that.

“I'm keeper.”

“You're always keeper.” Mark picked up the ball. “Fine.” He smiled at Nicky. “Ready?”

Nicky set himself up between two trees. Mark kicked. Nicky blocked it, then tossed it back.

“Nice one.”

“I'm getting good. My coach says I should be able to try out for some of the proper squads once I get tall enough.”

“That's really cool.”

“I think I want to play football when I grow up.”

“Yeah?” Mark lined up again. He knew it wasn't going to get through. It never did, and on the rare occasions he succeeded Nicky would put a pout on like it had been a personal slight, like Mark had cheated on purpose. “I don't know what I want to do.”

“You should be a singer.”

“Maybe.” He felt himself blush. It wasn't really a job, as people were always quick to remind him. You still had to do well at school, couldn't just go around singing all the time. There was an old record player in the shed at home and he'd sometimes sit in there for hours while he did his homework, listening to this old, amazing music he'd never heard of. He kept trying to explain it to Nicky. It was a bit like Nicky trying to explain the offside rule to him, but they at least pretended to understand what the other one was talking about. “They want me to do a solo in church for Christmas mass.”

“What are you singing?”

“Away In A Manger.” He kicked the ball, watched Nicky leap to knock it away. It bounced back. “I... I heard my mam talking last week. They want me to go see someone. A doctor.”

“Why?”

“Because...” He looked at Nicky. “They said I'm too old to have an imaginary friend. They think I'm crazy.”

“I'm not imaginary.”

“Yeah.” He looked down at his feet. He'd been mulling it over for days. You expected things to be here and there they were. He'd been lonely when he'd first gotten here, had thought he'd heard someone, and there Nicky was. He was always here.

“I'm not.”

“I know.”

Nicky stepped out of goal. An arm came around Mark's shoulder. “You're not crazy.”

“Maybe I am.” He looked up. “Do they think you're crazy?”

“No, but I don't tell them I have a friend in my head that no-one else can see.” Nicky chuckled. “I stopped talking about you when I was like... seven.”

“Oh.” Mark nodded. “You're my best friend, though. I don't really have any other friends.” He didn't. Everyone always seemed to think he was weird. Maybe he was. “Will you still want to hang out with me next year when you're in secondary?”

“I don't think I'll have a choice.” Nicky smirked. Mark shrugged, feeling his heart sink a little. “I'll always want to hang out with you.”

“Okay.” Mark looked up. A misty rain began to fall. “Whoops. Sorry. I think that was me.”

“It's fine.” Nicky lifted up his hand, catching droplets. “Keep it if you want.” Mark nodded. The rain started to come down a little harder. “Do you want to go sit in the treehouse?”

“Yeah.” They headed for the trees. Nicky's hand slipped into his.

A few minutes later they were sat on a low wooden balcony, water dripping off the canopy above them, puddling on the muddy ground below. Nicky's arm came around his waist. Mark leaned into him, felt a kiss brush his hair. His shoes fell into the puddle when he kicked them off, landing with a splash while he wriggled his toes in the rain.

“Sometimes I'm sad for no reason.” Mark said quietly. “I can't help it.”

Nicky kissed his hair again.

“I know.”

 

*

 

“Nicky...”

“NO!” Nicky kicked the tree. Hard. Sobbed. Punched it. Mark grabbed his shoulders. “NO. She's fucking _stupid_. It's...”

“Yeah.” Mark let go. Nicky turned to look at him, tears rolling down his cheeks. It was blazing hot, the sun a white, glaring ball in the pale sky. “I'm sorry.”

“I was supposed to go. It's not my fault!”

“I know.” Mark reached out a hand. Nicky's slid into his a second later, shaking angrily in his grip. Nicky had been upset when he'd arrived, pacing erratically in the clearing. It hadn't taken long to get the whole story out of him. He was supposed to go to a game but his mam said he couldn't. That his grades were bad and he needed to stay home and study. His dad had said the same, no matter how much he'd begged.

“It was supposed to be a date. I've been asking her out for months, and she finally says yes and...”

“I'm really sorry.” Georgina. Nicky was mad for her. Had been talking about her for ages. Mark felt a little jealous and wasn't sure why. He didn't think he liked girls all that much, though he was only twelve and most of his friends didn't really either. Kian did, though. He was always chasing girls around the place, trying to kiss them. It was just that she was all Nicky seemed to talk about. Georgina this and Georgina that. “She'll understand.”

“Loads of other lads want to go out with her, though. She'll go out with someone else, and...”

“She won't. I'm sure she fancies you.”

“I don't know.” Nicky bit his lip. He was a good looking lad. Mark could see that himself. Always looked really cool, with tight jeans and hair curling down to his shoulders. Mark wished he could look more like Nicky. He was chubby and awkward at the best of times. People noticed, too. Nicky kept telling him to stand up for himself, but that was easy to say and harder to do, when some boy bigger than him was calling him names and he was just trying his best not to curl up into a ball and cry.

“You'll pull other girls anyway.”

“I don't want other girls.” Nicky pouted.

“Do you want me to help with your homework or anything?”

“How? I can't bring it here. And even if I could, it'd all be gone by the time I went back.”

“I guess.” It was true. Mark had tried. Tried taking rocks and sticks, holding them in his hand when he knew he was starting to wake. But when he woke up in his bed his hands were empty. He couldn't bring things in either, and the clothes he was wearing were never the pyjamas he'd gone to sleep in. He'd tried little things. Smearing his hand with mud. Having Nicky write on his hand with a pen he'd magicked up. Even trying to cut himself. But they never got hurt here. It wouldn't work. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.” Nicky sighed. “I called her and she didn't sound angry or anything. I just... I try, you know?”

“I know.” Mark reached up a hand, brushing away the last droplets of angry tears. Nicky nuzzled into it. Mark pulled him into a hug.

“You're gonna be taller than me soon.” Nicky said quietly. Mark shrugged. It was probably true. His granny kept saying he was sprouting like a weed. “Mark?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you leave me alone for a bit? I need to...” He sucked in a breath. “I just want to be on my own for a bit, okay?”

He let go, stepping back. Nicky was looking apologetic, and Mark couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed. He knew more than anyone how sometimes all he wanted to do was be by himself.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's fine.” Nicky squeezed his hand. “I'll go.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded, wandering off into the trees.

 

*

 

The treehouse hammock was swinging slightly in the breeze. Mark didn't know if he was doing it on purpose, but it was perfect, Nicky facing him. It had been awkward getting on, both of them trying to climb onto the flat boards suspended by the trees on either end, trying not to tip it as they did. Now they were right in the middle, Nicky propped up on one elbow and Mark laid on his back, eyes closed while Nicky talked.

“We're going to go out again.”

“Told you it'd all work out.” Mark smiled. He rather liked rubbing it in. Six months since Nicky had blown up that day. Now Mark was thirteen, settling in a bit more at school. People still treated him like crap, but Kian was good at standing up for the both of them. They'd just gotten parts in the school musical and for the first time in ages Mark thought he might be happy.

Nicky was happy too.

“She kissed me.”

“Good.” Mark laughed. “Did you kiss her back?”

“Obviously.” Nicky snorted. “It was nice, you know? She's class. I think I'm going to marry her.”

“You can't get married. You're fourteen.”

“I don't care. I'm going to marry her.” Nicky sighed. “She's perfect.”

Mark smirked, felt a low twist of something disappointed in the pit of his stomach.

“At least one of us is getting kissed.”

“Who do you want to kiss?”

“Don't know. No-one, really.” He opened his eyes. “I wouldn't know where to start. It looks gross in the movies. Like, where does your tongue go and that? You're just supposed to stick it in there or what?”

Nicky laughed, poking him in the side.

“It's a kiss.”

“I know.”

“It's supposed to be...” Nicky sighed, looking like he was trying to find the words. “It's just really nice, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You don't believe me.”

“I do. I just don't...” He propped himself up on both elbows. It was a nice day. There were flowers blooming all through the tree, little pink ones that kept fluttering down and getting stuck in their hair. “I don't know. I think I'd mess it up.”

“It's not hard. Have you tried like... practicing or anything?”

“Practicing?”

“Like, on your hand or something?”

“On my hand?” Mark laughed. “Why, what's it gonna do? Kiss me back?”

“No, but like if you curl it up and...” Nicky made a fist, turning it sideways. “You can pretend or whatever. Not that I... like... ever did or anything...” He trailed off, going red. Mark giggled. “It's just nice. You don't get it.”

“Does Georgina know you made out with your hand?”

“Shut up!” Nicky barked out an awkward laugh, shoving him. Mark was still giggling, trying not to roll too close to the edge. “Arsehole.”

“Which one's a better kisser?”

“Mark!” He got another shove. Mark shoved back. Nicky pouted and flopped onto his back. He crossed his arms, glaring up at the sky. Mark nudged him.

“Nicky?”

“Shut up.” Nicky sulked. “At least I'm getting kissed.”

“Yeah.” Mark smirked. “Your hand sounds class.”

“You don't know what you're talking about.”

“Don't I?”

“You're an idiot.”

“Probably, yeah.” He leaned up on his elbow. Nicky did the same. “Sorry.”

“S'fine.” Nicky sighed. “Look, it's not...” He paused, looking at Mark, who stared back. They both smiled. “Here.”

Mark froze as lips touched gently to his. His eyes were open. Nicky's were too. Blazing earnestly like they were trying to prove a point. Then they fell closed. Mark's did too. He held his breath as lips moved against his, a rushing tingle pooling in his toes before snaking back up. A hand closed gently in his hair.

“There.” Nicky said. His lips were a little red. Mark licked his own. “That's a kiss.”

“Oh.” Mark swallowed. Blue eyes blinked at him, searching. He searched back. “That was alright.”

 

*

 

“You ready?” Mark watched Nicky poke a rock with his toe. It went over the edge, spiralling down until it hit the boiling foam with the tiniest plunk. It was a long way to fall. Kept getting longer as Mark looked at it. He watched Nicky close his eyes, take a deep breath.

“You're sure about this?”

“Yeah.” Mark shrugged. “We won't get hurt.”

“I know, but...” Nicky peered over the edge again. “We're really high up.”

Mark reached out a hand. They'd found the waterfall a week or so ago, had sat on the edge of the cliff nearby watching it boil below. Ten metres, maybe more. Not that high, all things considered. Mark didn't know where it had come from, only that it was here, but things were like that. Paths he thought he'd taken suddenly lead to new places. The treehouse kept moving, showing up in random spots whenever he felt like a rest. Not that he ever got properly tired, not here.

A hand gripped his.

“On three.” Mark looked over. Nicky was a bit pale, but he stepped towards the edge anyway. He'd never back down on a challenge, Nicky. Mark knew it too well.

He counted. The he jumped. It was sickening, the drop, seemed to go on for ever while his stomach jolted into his mouth. He heard Nicky shriek.

The pool was ice-cold when he hit it, the air knocked out of him in a moment, Nicky's hand yanked from his grip. He whooped, bubbles streaming out of his mouth, but when he turned to find Nicky he was tossed backwards by the water, sucked towards the bottom of the falls. When he came up he was behind them, the water thundering down in front of him.

“Nicky!”

He could stand after a moment, waded into the small cavern. It was shallow, just a nook in the wall.

“Mark!”

“I'm in here!” He pushed his hand out through the streaming water, felt it strike hard, like shoving his hand through ball-bearings. “Come look!”

There was a splash. Nicky surfaced not long after, pushing sodden hair out of his eyes and looking around. Mark helped him out of the water, feet careful on the slippery rocks.

“Shit, I thought I'd lost you.”

“No.” Mark looked around. “You okay?”

“I'm fine.” Nicky sank down, legs kicking in the water.

Mark sat next to him in silence, their feet nudging slightly as the pool was muddled by foam. There didn't seem much use in talking. He didn't have anything to say.

“Can I tell you something?” Nicky said finally. Mark nodded. “I... I'm going to have sex with Georgina.”

Mark's stomach knotted. It had been almost a year ago, since that kiss. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. Nicky was sixteen now, but Mark was taller than him, would be fifteen soon. He'd wake up some nights after dreams, dreams that weren't here but had Nicky in them anyway. Not the real Nicky, but another one, one that was slow and beautiful and would leave soft, hot kisses on his mouth, whisper things in his ear that he couldn't remember.

Then afterwards he'd shuffle down the hall to the bathroom and try to wash everything off his underwear so his mother wouldn't notice.

“Okay.”

“She says she's ready, you know? And I am too, I think. I just...” He went a bit pink. “Sorry. I don't have anyone else to talk to about it. Like, I can't exactly tell me mam, and the lads at school are...” He took Mark's hand. “Maybe it's because you're not real, but I can always talk to you about stuff, right?”

“I'm real.” Mark tilted his head. Nicky shrugged. “You know I'm real.”

“I guess.”

“Nicky...” He tugged gently on Nicky's hand. “I'm real. You're real.”

“Well, I know I'm real.” Nicky chuckled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. “I just...” He looked up at Mark. “It doesn't matter. Look, I'm going to give you my phone number, alright? And when we wake up you call me. Then I'll know.”

A swirl of panic settled into Mark's stomach. Call Nicky? For real? He wasn't sure why that sounded wrong considering they saw each other all the time - sometimes more than once a week – but it felt like a bigger leap than the waterfall had. And what if there was nobody there? What if he really was...

“Are you sure?”

“No.” Nicky bit his lip. “I'm not.” He let go of Mark's hand. “Mark?”

“Yeah.”

“She's going to stay over this weekend. What if I'm no good at it?”

“Practice on your hand?” Mark suggested. Nicky laughed, nudging him.

“Well, I've already done that.” They both giggled, Mark blushing. “She said she loves me.”

“Do you love her?”

“I think so. Yeah.” He chewed his lip. “Okay. I'm gonna have sex with my girlfriend.”

“You are.” Mark wanted to cry for some reason. “You'll have to tell me how it goes.”

“Yeah.” Nicky smiled. “I changed my mind. Don't... call me. If you're not real...” He let out a shaking breath. “I don't want to know, okay? You're real to me.”

Mark nodded, kicking his feet through the water to watch the ripples spread.

 

*

 

“It was amazing.” Mark cheered. Nicky grinned, sitting on the edge of the water while Mark tried to re-enact it, stepping through the moves. “There were girls all screaming and me and Shane were singing and...” He turned on the spot, stepping backwards slightly. “It was mad. You've no idea.”

“It sounds amazing.” Nicky laughed. “Never took you for a boyband. You were supposed to be one of those tortured soul singers in a divebar, not bloody Boyzone.”

“I didn't think it either, but...” He pivoted, got a laugh from Nicky. He knew he couldn't dance very well but Nicky had never seemed to mind. “Shane says he wants to do it proper. Like, not just at the musicals. Our own show.”

“You can be Ginger Spice.”

“Nah, that's you.” Mark smirked. Nicky growled. “I'll be Posh Spice.”

“You? The fucking farmer?” He got a teasing grin. “I always fancied Baby Spice.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah. Blonde. Boobs. Definitely.” He lifted his hands, miming the curves with a lecherous smirk on his face. “Ooh, yeah. Which one did you fancy?”

“Dunno.” Mark shrugged. He'd kept it from Nicky, kept it from himself as well, for a long time. It felt too big to say it out loud. That he might be... “Anyway, it'll be fun.”

“It will. I'll make sure I buy your first album.” Nicky smiled. They'd been singing together a bit, the two of them. Not on purpose, but because Mark would just start up and Nicky would join in. Mark had been teaching him how to match pitch for harmonies. “I'm going to Australia on Monday.”

“You are not.”

“I am.” Nicky laughed. “Found out this morning. Two weeks. But...” He bit his lip. “Timezones and that, you know? So...”

“Oh.” Mark stopped. “So when...?”

“We... might not see each other for a bit.” Nicky flinched. “We're going up through Asia after that, and then Europe. By the time I get to Europe, maybe...”

“I'll sleep during the day.”

“You have school.”

“I'll be sick.”

“Mark...” Mark didn't like that smile, the slightly condescending one. “It's just a month or so.”

“But...”

“It'll be fine. Don't be a baby.” Nicky reached out a hand. Mark ignored it. He felt a sudden angry lump settle in his throat.

“I'm not a baby.”

“Well, you're acting like one.” Nicky raised an eyebrow. “It's not my favourite thing either, but...”

“I'm gay.” Mark blurted. Nicky froze. They both did. Nicky stared at him while a freezing hot claw settled into the back of his neck, sudden panic at what he'd finally said out loud.

“Excuse me?”

“I'm...” He sank down on the grass. “Sorry. I don't know why I said that.” When he looked up Nicky was crawling over, settling down beside him. “Um.” An arm came carefully around his shoulders. He realised he was crying. “Shit.” The other arm settled across his stomach, tugging him slightly while he buried his face in Nicky's shoulder.

“It's okay.” Nicky murmured. Mark shook his head. It wasn't. “Are you really?”

“Yeah.” Mark mumbled. “Think so. I just...” He rubbed his damp face into Nicky's shoulder. Fingers drifted carefully through his hair. “I don't know.”

“It's alright.” He heard a soft laugh and felt utterly stupid. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Didn't tell anyone.” He managed. It was starting to rain, a gentle drizzle. A coat came over his head a minute later. Nicky hadn't been wearing a coat. It was dry and warm and smelled like him, though. “You don't mind?”

“Why would I mind?” Mark couldn't look at him. He was blazing red, tears still rolling down his cheeks. He sniffed, dragging his own sleeve over his nose. Nicky kissed the tip of it.

“I didn't mean to be.”

“It's fine. It's really...” Nicky sighed. Mark crawled into his lap, pressing his head to a beating heart. Arms wrapped around him. The coat seemed to grow, and when he looked up they were in a small tent, a bit like the little two man ones they'd used for scouting trips when he was younger. The rain seemed louder, pattering the canvas. There wasn't enough room to stand up but he didn't mind. They lay down instead, Nicky pulling him into his chest.

Mark closed his eyes, feeling suddenly exhausted. Nicky stroked his hair until he woke up alone, in his own bed.

 

*

 

He was alone. It was dark, the moon casting long shadows on the grass.

“Nicky?” He whispered.

There was no answer.

The wind tugged at his shirt.

He woke up.

 

*

 

“Did it hurt?”

“Like crazy.” Nicky laughed. He was laid on his front, showing off his new acquisition. Black, interlocking lines spread across his lower back, tangling together before separating. Mark ran his finger along them.

“You're crazy.”

“I know. I was just... homesick, you know? Like, Australia's grand, but I missed...” He looked at Mark. “Georgina. You.”

“Yeah.” There was a slight thrill when he said that, muted by Georgina's name in such close proximity. He could just see the top of the crack of Nicky's arse, and for a wild moment wanted to touch, push his finger down there and...

He swallowed, tugging the shirt down over the tattoo.

“Asia was mental too. Japan. Oh my god, they're football mad over there. And Malaysia. We went to Spain and I met Roberto Carlos in Madrid. I couldn't...” He laughed, rolling over. “It's crazy. I can't believe it, you know? Like, I always said I wanted to do this and...”

“It's fantastic.” Mark agreed. Nicky grinned, sitting up and hugging him. Mark hugged him back, laughing. Nicky kissed his cheek. “I'm really proud of you.”

“Now you just have to be a singer and we're both sorted.”

“Yeah, good luck.” Mark snorted. “I'm thinking of maybe doing teaching.” He looked at Nicky, biting his lip. He'd been considering it, but had wanted to see what Nicky thought before he made any big decisions. He still had a year, but he wanted to pick the right subjects, figure out how he wanted to organise his Leaving Cert. “What do you think?”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” He shrugged. “Like, I can just do singing on the side. Then if it doesn't work out...”

“Don't sound too excited.”

“I know.” Mark sighed. “I don't know what else I want to do, though.” He reached out a hand. Nicky took it. He didn't know what this holding hands thing was about, but they'd been doing it since they were little and there seemed no point trying to question it. Over a decade. He'd turned sixteen not long before. “A weird thing happened while you were gone.”

“Did it?”

“Yeah.” He bit his lip. “I was here by myself.”

Nicky didn't answer for a moment. When he did it was with a voice that was oddly strained.

“I... saw you.” He blinked at Mark. “I took a couple of sleeping tablets on the plane, just to get a bit of rest and... it was dark. You were wearing a t-shirt and jeans, standing over there.” He gestured at the clearing. “It was windy, and when I called out you didn't hear me. Then you were gone.”

“Oh.” A prickle ran up his back. “You were here?”

“Yeah. I mean...” His hand was turned over. A thumb ran down his palm. “I don't know what happened.”

“I missed you.” Mark said quietly. Nicky sat up, pulling him into a hug.

“I missed you too.”

 

*

 

“Nine. Ten.” Mark opened his eyes, looking around. He didn't know what had gotten into Nicky today, but he was all over the place, dashing around with loads of energy, swinging on tree branches and trying to wrestle. Mark had indulged him as best he could but it was exhausting trying to keep up with him. Then he'd suggested hide and seek.

The clearing was empty. He could see something rustling, though, movement in the trees. He smirked, starting to walk in the other direction.

“Nicky!”

He heard a giggle, then a snort. Laughed to himself. Feinted in the right direction, then turned away. There was another rustle, moving higher up. Nicky was climbing a tree.

“Where are you?”

There was more rustling. He headed in the right direction, pushing through undergrowth. When he looked up he could see the bottoms of Nicky's sneakers peeking out over the edge of a branch.

“I can see you!”

“No you can't!” Mark rolled his eyes, starting to climb as well. A foot kicked out at him, Nicky shuffling away along the branch. Mark could see him properly now, arms out to keep his balance while his walkway narrowed, lip bitten in concentration. Mark grabbed for his foot, heard a yelp. He grabbed again.

“Stop it! I'll fall!”

Mark scurried a little higher, hands walking out across Nicky's branch, feet finding purchase on his own. He stretched, got a kick when he went to grab again.

“Got you.” He grabbed Nicky's shoe. Nicky squawked, kicking again, then he was falling, grabbing Mark on the way down, both of them tumbling into the leaves together with a breathless thud.

“Hey.” Nicky grinned. He'd landed on top, both of them totally unhurt, though Mark was still trying to get his breath back from the fall. “This is nice.”

“Get off me.”

“Nope.” Nicky lay down, head in Mark's neck. “G'night.”

“Nicky...” He laughed, rolling them over while Nicky flailed, leaves caught in both their hair, the shade throwing dappled sunlight across his friend's face. Blue eyes looked up, dancing with laughter.

A hand shoved leaves down the back of his shirt.

“Nicky!” He grunted, twisting as Nicky wriggled out from under him and tried to escape. Grabbed an ankle. Nicky kicked, stumbled, and Mark was after him, leaves falling out of his shirt, crunching under his feet while he chased Nicky through the trees, breathless and laughing, Nicky ducking under branches and swerving.

He tripped. Mark grabbed him. They went down, Nicky on top.

The kiss took him completely by surprise.

“Oh.” Nicky blinked when it parted. Mark licked his lips, just to check if they were still there.

“Um.” Mark said.

The next kiss was slow. The air driven out of him in a second as a tongue brushed his mouth, lips parted against him. Then deep. Wet. Nicky made a soft, growling moan into his mouth, everything in him jolting towards that sound, his hands curling into soft hair and feeling Nicky's body slot into his, teeth scrape his bottom lip.

“Shit.” He muttered, rolling them over. Nicky arched up as fingers curved to his jaw, the boy beneath him pushing up into him, and he _ached._ A hard, wanting pang when Nicky made another sound. Another. His mouth taking that tongue in as it explored him, Mark trying to explore back, but too caught up in surprise and arousal.

“Mark.” Nicky whispered. Mark gulped, opened his eyes. Nicky stared back at him.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“S'fine.” Nicky's hips shifted away. Oh. He bit his lip in the wealth of space, knew he was being pretty obvious below the waist. “Sorry. I...” He was pink, looking down at Mark. “Erm...”

Mark kissed him again.

When he woke up the next morning, nobody could understand why he kept smiling.

 

*

 

“You have a girlfriend.”

“Doesn't matter. You're not real.” Nicky chuckled, tugging him into another kiss. Mark didn't know how he felt about that. Oh, the snogging was alright, but...

“I'm real.”

“Yeah.” Nicky dismissed him with another kiss. It was intoxicating. His hands were squashed in back pockets, Nicky woven around his front, straddling his lap. It was warm, the shade holding them in, dark and secret while a hand slid up his neck.

“You're not gay.”

“You're not real."

“So I'm allowed to kiss other people, then?”

“Didn't say that.”

“I don't want to kiss other people.”

“Good.” A tongue slipped into his mouth, effectively cutting off his protests. He groaned, heard Nicky make a wanting hiss when they ground together. “Missed you. I... I jerked off. Thinking about you.” Mark gulped down his arousal, eyes squeezing shut when he felt Nicky push down again.

“I've been doing that for years.”

“And you didn't tell me?”

“You're not gay.”

“Okay.” Fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt. “Fuck, I want you.” Nicky yanked again. Mark batted his hand away.

“No.”

“Why?”

“You could ask first?”

“Why?” Nicky pouted. He yanked again. Mark pulled back, feeling suddenly violated. But he wasn't real, of course, so what did his feelings matter? This wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be what they'd always had. Nicky, his best friend. It wasn't...

“Get off me.”

“Why?”

“Get _off_.” He shoved. Nicky fell, toppling clumsily onto the hard ground.

“That hurt!”

“Good.” He snapped back, got a glare. “Is that how you fucked your girlfriend the first time? Told her her feelings didn't fucking matter until she did it anyway?” That one seemed to land. Nicky flushed red, crooked teeth bared for a moment. Mark shook his head, heading for the trees.

“Where do you think you're going?”

“Away.” Mark snarled. He was still hard, and hated himself for it. Nicky yanked on his shoulder. Mark turned around, his hand up.

Nicky's head cracked to the side, Mark's hands covering his own mouth in shock before he'd realised what he'd done. Nicky's eyes were filled with tears.

A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.

“Oh.” A tongue darted out to taste it. Mark felt his eyes sting, a lump fill his throat. “You...” Nicky's fingers touched it, came back smudged with red. He stared. They both did.

“I'm so sorry.”

“You hit me.”

“You... I didn't...”

“I'm... I'm bleeding.” Nicky swallowed. “How am I...?”

“I'm... I'm real. I am.” Mark managed. Nicky looked back at the blood. Back at Mark.

“I...”

“You wouldn't stop.”

Nicky sank, suddenly. Like his bones had disappeared. Collapsed to the ground in a puddle. There was a roll of sudden, electric thunder. They both jumped. The sky had gotten dark. Mark didn't know when that had happened.

“I'm sorry.”

“I'm...” Nicky licked the blood away. Mark reached out a hand, felt a trembling one take it. “Shit, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...” He began to cry. Mark gathered him up carefully, felt him heave. “I'm so sorry. I thought it... if you weren't real then it wouldn't... wouldn't count. I...” A squelching sob buried itself in his chest. “I'm so fucking scared I'm going crazy, you know? I just... I have this perfect girlfriend and... and even if you aren't real, if this is the fucking dream I keep having then... then what does that mean? Like, does that mean I'm...” A shaking breath rattled between them. “And if you are real...”

“I love you.” Mark said quietly. Nicky nodded, arms wrapping tight around his shoulders. A kiss brushed his ear.

“I love you too.” Nicky whispered back. “I've always loved you.” He squeezed Mark tighter. “Best butler ever.”

“I thought I was first mate?”

“Yeah.” Nicky laughed, eyes still dripping tears. Mark brushed the blood away, watching it stain his thumb. “That too.”

 

*

 

“Come down.” Mark sighed, looking up into the tree. He could see a foot dangling over the side of the little wooden platform. Nicky had been up there hours. Mark had arrived to find Nicky sitting at the base of it, staring blankly into the empty woods, but when he'd moved to say hello Nicky had scurried up the tree.

He'd gotten bloody good at climbing. It was a pain the arse.

“Just leave me alone.”

“Talk to me.” Mark sighed. Heard a soft sob. “I'm coming up.”

“Don't.” The branches were thicker, all of a sudden, leaves tangling until he couldn't see Nicky any more. He sighed, sinking down at the base of the tree.

“What happened?”

There was a long silence. Mark buried his chin in his knees, waiting patiently for Nicky to reply.

“They cut me.” Nicky whispered. Mark looked up. The branches were parting a little. He could see the foot again. “They cut me from the team. I didn't...” He breathed out slowly. “They didn't offer me another contract. They said I was too short and...”

Mark didn't try to reply. Not when he could feel the hurt in the air, the tangible, salty humidity, waiting to break into a proper storm.

“What am I supposed to do now?”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Yeah. Everyone is. Mam. Dad. Georgina. The coach. The manager. But...” A rattling sigh floated down. “I don't know. It was all I ever wanted to do.”

“I know.” He watched the foot kick in the air, saw a hand dangle over the side a second later. It clenched into a fist, then loosened.

“I have to go back and do Leaving Cert. I promised Mam if it didn't work out I'd go back. I just never...” The fist clenched again. “Fuck. FUCK!” A rain of leaves fell from the tree. Mark flinched. _“FUCK!”_

Mark waited at the bottom of the tree while Nicky cried. When he finally came down he was blotchy and red, his hair full of leaves. Mark pulled him into a hug.

The storm broke. He huddled closer, trying to protect Nicky from the rain.

 

*

 

“Louis Walsh.” Mark couldn't stop moving. “Louis Walsh. I can't...” He spun on the spot, giggling while Nicky grinned, sat on the rock and smiling. “Nicky, he manages bloody _Boyzone_. Shane and Kian met Ronan Keating and...” He shook his head. He'd been desperate to tell Nicky. For days. But every time he went to sleep he'd not made it here. He wished he could control it somehow, but it seemed totally down to chance. Sometimes they'd be here every night, sometimes not for two weeks.

It was then that he'd wonder if maybe that was it. If he'd never go back again. But then, just as he was getting so sure, just as that hard, heartbroken anticipation was swelling in his gut, he'd wake up to the smell of sweet rotting leaves and...

“We're going to support the Backstreet Boys! In Dublin on Friday night! Can you believe it!”

He turned to look. Nicky was white, his mouth a shrunken line.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” Nicky swallowed, blinking over eyes that were missing something behind them. “I'm glad for you.” He took a deep breath. “I'm... I'm going to that concert. Me and Georgina. We have... we have tickets...”

Mark felt his heart stop. They stared at each other. Nicky shifted backwards on the rock. Just a little. Enough to notice.

“You... you are.”

“Yeah.” Nicky licked his lips. “Yeah.” He breathed. “Shit.”

“Maybe...”

“No.” Nicky held up a hand. “No. I don't...” He shivered, even though the day was hot. “Just...”

“But...”

“Mark, I'm bringing my girlfriend to a concert and...” He covered his face. Mark watched, edging forward a little. “You're not real. Okay? It's just fucking easier if you're not real.”

“You don't still think that.”

“I think...” Nicky looked up, and his eyes were red. “I think if you're real, then this is real. And if this is real, then I've...”

“We haven't...” They hadn't. Not since that kiss. Not since the day with the blood. It was too hard, like admitting he was frightened of Nicky, that Nicky was frightened of him. “We're not.”

“I've thought about it.” Nicky breathed. “What it'd be like to...” He gulped, hand groping blindly to scratch his own arm. “With you. With...” Blue eyes closed. Opened again. “If it's just a fantasy, then it doesn't... doesn't matter. I get to...” He looked away. “This is my _life_. It's already fucked as it is, you know? I...” He shook his head. “I'm applying for the Guard.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. Gotta do something, don't I? And...”

“I'm not going to just go away.”

“Could you? Please?” Nicky barked a laughed, soft and broken. Mark flinched. “If we're fucking stuck with each other, then...”

“You said you'd buy our album.”

“I did.” Nicky laughed bitterly. “When I was a stupid fucking teenager. But I'm... I'm eighteen years old. This was supposed to be my life, but I'm hanging around with some fucking kid I met when I was six because it's not like I have any choice.”

“Five and a half. And it's not my fault.”

“Isn't it?” Nicky crossed his arms. “How do I know?”

“I didn't come here on purpose.”

“Neither did I.”

“You kissed me.”

“You're a fucking child.”

“I'm going to be eighteen in two months.”

“Brilliant. Maybe this place'll fucking realise we're not kids any more and just... disappear. Or do whatever it's supposed to do. Fucking Oz or Wonderland or... or Narnia or whatever it's supposed to be.” He looked around. “Where's the fucking wardrobe, huh? There's gotta be a fucking hot air balloon or some ruby slippers or fucking something!”

“You want to leave?”

“I want...” Nicky ran shaking hands through his hair. “I've gone fucking crazy. It's the stress, right? These childhood delusions and they've... I've just snapped. Must have. Because.”

“Nicky.”

“Just...”

“Nicky.” He rolled his eyes, stepped in.

Nicky groaned, his lips parting.

Mark pulled back.

“Come to the fucking concert, okay?”

Nicky dragged him into another kiss.

 

*

 

His name sounded amazing on pouting lips, breathed against his ear while they lay together in the treehouse, Nicky moving slowly beneath him, dragging him into kiss after kiss. Mark ground back. It was warm. He was naked, felt like he should be more self-conscious, but Nicky was making soft moans that slid through him like butter, gasped into his neck while Mark tried to make himself stop.

“Please.” Nicky whispered. “Please.”

“I'm...” Mark shuddered. “Oh Jesus, Nicky...”

“Please...” Nicky gasped again. He arched. Mark groaned, their legs tangling together. Fingers ran up his side, curving to the shape of him. He fisted his hand in blonde hair. Wanted to stop. Wanted this to last forever. Didn't...

“I... I can't...” He closed his eyes, felt a mouth catch his. He shivered. Fingernails scraped down his back. “I can't.”

“Yes.” Nicky whispered between kisses. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes...”

He came with a cry, felt Nicky hold him through it, wrap around him, tangling into him. Gone and drowning, overloaded while it washed over him, Nicky's mouth anchoring him to the plank floor, fingers in his hair. He couldn't breathe. Wanted to soak up the smell of Nicky coming too, the sound of it, that soft, breathless shout when Nicky writhed against him and jolted, clinging to him.

“Oh.” He closed his eyes while he came down, nuzzling into a slick throat. “Perfect.”

“Yeah.” There was an overwhelmed chuckle. He laughed too. “Good thing I practiced on my hand.”

 

*

 

“You... you didn't.”

“No.” Nicky was chewing his lip. Mark had bounced in, excited and wanting to hear what Nicky had thought of the concert, wondering if maybe... Because if they were going to spend more time in Dublin now...

“Why?”

“The...” Nicky made something that wasn't really a laugh. “The car broke down. Can you believe it? And then the taxi didn't come and by the time we made it there...” He bit his lip again. Mark stared. “At least we saw the Backstreet Boys.”

“I...” Mark wanted to cry. Nicky looked like he was swallowing back his own tears. “Oh.”

“Well, I suppose that's the universe, isn't it?” Nicky giggled. He hadn't giggled since they were younger, but there it was, tittering and shattered. “Not meant to be, I guess.”

“That's not...”

“But it _is_ apparently.” Nicky stood, beginning to pace. Mark hated it when he paced. “Georgina loved the gig, by the way. Kevin's her favourite.”

“Kevin's nice. We played basketball with them.”

“Of course you fucking did.” Nicky snarled. “But then I'm thinking, right? Maybe this is me. Maybe this is my fucked up head trying to stop me from seeing the truth. Like, if I show up and you're not onstage there's my... there's my fucking denial gone. I...” His hands clenched into fists. “You _aren't real_.”

“I _am_.”

“Brilliant.” Nicky giggled again.

“Why don't we meet, then? I'm in Dublin. We're staying in a hotel. Come find me.”

“I'll probably get bloody hit by a bus! Because either the universe doesn't want this shit or I don't, but either way I'm probably going to get... hit by lightning or... or a plane'll crash on my head or something.”

“Nicky...”

“Just...” Nicky's hands fisted in his hair. “Just don't. Okay? Just...”

“Nicky.”

“ _What?!”_

“I love you.”

Nicky shook his head, pulling away.

 

*

 

Kian was sitting next to him. He felt a hand settle on his shoulder.

“You alright?”

“Yeah.” Mark swallowed. He wasn't really. Not since that scene in the woods. Nicky hadn't spoken to him again, had stalked away into the trees. Mark had woken with tears on his cheeks, a heavy lump in his stomach, and the feeling like something had gone horribly wrong.

That had been three months ago. He'd never been out this long before. Not even when Nicky was travelling.

He breathed slowly, wishing it didn't smell like dust and sticky old beer in here. Wanted the smell of sweet rotting leaves, of Nicky's hair.

“Do you want a water or something?”

“I'm fine.” He looked at Shane. “It's just been a long couple of weeks. It's fine.” He looked up at the stage. “Who's next, yeah?”

It was a boy who triumphantly announced that he was wearing his dad's suit. He was quite a good singer, though. Cheeky and friendly, with a decent look about him. They'd cut Mark's hair last week. It felt too short. Kian had been given a spray tan. Mark could smell it on his skin.

The parade went by. Other boys. Some good. Some... rather terrible. Kian was yawning. Louis was writing things down, looking bored.

“Next.”

The next boy came out on stage. He was wearing a blue suit, looked sort of nervous. Mark stared.

Nicky swallowed.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Mark breathed. This had to be a delusion. It had to. Too long out of whatever fucked up dream he'd been having for a lifetime and it was starting to bleed into everyday life.

“Singing Father and Son, if that's alright?”

They all nodded. Mark stared.

When it was over they all went out to stretch their legs. Louis suggested lunch. Mark said he had to go back to the hotel for something, and could he meet them later, please.

A hand slipped into his on the way out.

“Come on.”

The hotel room was the way he remembered it, except it had been tidied. Nicky's legs were around his waist. They fell to the bed, fingers catching in his hair, mouths clashing. Mark groaned. Nicky laughed.

Afterwards, laid in a room that stank of sex, Mark kissed a slender shoulder, felt fingers drift down his back.

“You're here.”

“I'm here.” Nicky smiled nervously. “Heard Louis Walsh was auditioning for a new boyband. Heard they'd supported the Backstreet Boys.”

“Fuck.” Mark swallowed, looking up. “What about the Guard?”

“What about teaching?” Nicky teased. They looked at each other slowly. Mark thumbed over soft lips, felt them press to his touch. He shivered. “I broke up with her.” Nicky said. “Even if...” He sucked in a breath. “Even if you weren't real, then...” He kissed Mark's thumb again. “I love you. I've always loved you.”

A finger brushed his own lips. He kissed it. Their noses rubbed together, soft and nuzzling.

Mark closed his eyes.

 

*

 

“Haven't been here in a while.”

“No.” Mark looked around. It still looked the same, after all this time. There were pink flowers pooling on the ground. He kicked off his shoes, feeling a hand slide into his.

Nicky smirked.

“Wondered when you'd bloody show up.”

“It's not my fault.” Mark laughed. “You looked nice, by the way. The suit was...” He felt his eyes fill with tears. A kiss brushed them away. “I don't want to wake up without you tomorrow.”

Nicky's eyes sparkled. He'd always had the same eyes, no matter the wrinkles around them.

“You want to go climb a tree?”

“Yeah.” He laughed, stretching his hands. They looked younger. The knuckles weren't swollen, the lines melting in front of his eyes. “Haven't done that in about forty years.”

“It was a pretty great wedding anniversary.” Nicky grinned. His hair was back. Mark ran a hand through it. “You want to go see if the waterfall's still here? You can be first mate.”

He wrapped an arm around Nicky's waist. Strong arms looped around his neck. A gentle breeze swept through his hair, smelling of rotting leaves and sunshine.

“Just want you.”

 


End file.
